When the Homeland Calls 



BY 



LINSEY BARBEE. 




PRICE 25 CENTS 



Eldridge Entertainment House 



Franklin, Ohio 



Denver, Colo. 



CET THIS NEW PATRIOTIC MONOLOG 



"THE STARS AND STRIPES 
IN FLANDERS" 



By SEYMOUR S. TiBBALS 



HERE is a ten minute dramatic reading 
with a climax that will cause a thrill. 
Suitable for a male or female reader and a 
number that will strengthen any program. 

We recommend it for any patriotic celebra- 
tion, commencement, alumni or civic banquet. 

The story deals with the manner in which 
the news of Americans entrance into the war 
was received in a dugout in Belgium. A col- 
onel of artillery, a priest and an Irish-Ameri- 
can are the leading characters. You will 
like it. 

PRICE 25 CENTS 

THE ELDRIDGE ENTERTAINMENT HOUSE 

FRANKLIN, OHIO ■ ■ ■ ■ DENVER, COLO. 



When the Home Land Calls 



I ^ 



By Lindsey Barbee. ! 



Coprnght, 1918. EUdridge Entertaiamcnt How*. 



-PUBLISHED BY- 



ELDRIDGE ENTERTAINMENT HOUSE, 

FRANKIIN, - OHIO DEWTR, COLO. 



CHARACTERS 

BARBARA BENTON— An American girl who does 

her bit. ' ^ ^ ^ 

CHRISTINE HUNTER— A spy. . <^^^kj 

CELIA >^ .MSSBiW^Si 

KATE I /^ ' 4 

PEGGY i. Red Cross enthusiasts 
EDITH 
GLADYS 

HERMAN VON ELTZ— Pro-German in thought and 
action. 

KARL VON ELTZ— His younger brother. 

CAPTAIN WARD 






LIEUT. EGBERTS ' °^ ^^^ ^"""'^ ^*^*'' ^"^^^ 
SCENE — America and France. 
TIME— The present. 

TIME OF PLAYING— About an hour and a half. 
ACT I.— A Red Cross Benefit. 
ACT II. — Near the firing line in France. 

SYNOPSIS FOR PROGRAM 



ACT I. Among various means of swelling the Red 
Cross treasury, the gipsy camp proves most effective; 
and beneath the shadow of its miniature tent, a double 
identity is revealed, a pro-German scheme discussed, a 
decision reached and a passport lost. 

ACT II. The unexpected sight of a jagged scar helps 
Barbara to solve the mystery of the altered messages; 
and the sudden appearance of Karl proves that the Amer- 
ican spirit outweighs the German tradition when the 
home land calls. 



OEC 12 ISI8 @CLD 50844 



• » 

etc 



Aa-O 



CHARACTERS AND COSTUMES 

BARBARA — Hi^h-spirited, vivacious, radiating effi- 
ciency. In Act I, she wears a gipsy costume; in Act II, 
the uniform of a wireless operator. 

CHRISTINE — Clever, shrewd, of a winning personal- 
ity. In Act I, she wears a gipsy costume; in Act 11. the 
uniform of a wireless operator, with disguise of wig and 
other make-up. 

EDITH. PEGGY. KATE, GLADYS, CELIA— Bright, 
lively, up-to-date girls. They all wear pretty evening 
dresses. 

HERMAN — A typical man of the world; polished and 
conventional. He wears evening clothes. Slightly gray 
about the temples. 

KARL — Impulsive, enthusiastic and courageous. In 
Act I, he wears a business suit; in Act II, a German uni- 
form. 

CAPTAIN WARD and LIEUTENANT ROBERTS— 
Typical military men in conventional uniform. 

PROPERTIES 

ACT I. Gipsy tent with pillows. Small table with 
punch bowl and cups. Two booths, one with fancy arti- 
cles (including a sachet, a boudoir cap, a knitting bag 
and a pr.ir of worsted slippers) and a box for money ; the 
othor with candy in boxes and plates. Settee. Flags of 
America and allied nations. Tambourine, hand bag, en- 
velope for Barbara. Banjo for Christine. Hand bag and 
money fcr Celia. Chocolate cream.s for Edith. Tray of 
small nosegays for Gladys. Boutonniere and bills for 
Herman. 

ACT II. Cot with coverings. Table with papers, lamp, 
matches and telephone. Two chairs. Flashlights for 
Barbara and Miss Hall. Papers for Karl. Glass of 
water for Barbara. 

STAGE DIRECTIONS 

R. means right of stage; C, center; R. C, right center; 
L. left; U. E., upper entrance; D. F., door in flat or scene 
running across the back of the stage; up stage, away 
from foct-lights; down stage, near foot-lights. The ac- 
tor is supposed to be facing the audience. 



When the Home Land Calls. 



ACT I. 



Scene — A room given over to a Red Cross Benefit 
Fete, Wide archway R. of C. in F, revealing wainscot 
drop. Entrance down R, Gipsy tent R. 2E. Table with 
punch bowl L. of C. in F. Table or booth L, U. E. bear- 
ing all kinds of fancy articles. Table or booth L. 2E. at 
which candy — in boxes or plates — is temptingly dis- 
played. Settee down L. of C. American and allied flags 
everywhere. Stage well illuminated. 

At rise, Barbara, attired as a gipsy, is seated within 
the opening of the gipsy tent counting money in her tam- 
bourine. Christine, in similar garb, is seated R. of tent 
opening, idly strumming a banjo. Peggy is back of the 
booth at L. U. E. Edith is arranging boxes on the booth 
at L. 2E. Celia is standing R. of punch bowl and Kate is 
serving her. 

Celia — Punch without a punch! Ugh! (Makes 
grimace) I can't conscientiously recommend your 
wares, Kate. 

Kate — Who asks you for a recommendation? All 
we want, my dear Celia, is your money. 

Celia — (Handing Kate the cup) Take it away. (As 
Kaie pours the contents of k.h cup into the punch boivl.) 
Kate! 

Kate — Miraculous pitcher up to date! (Waves cup) 
Behold a practical demonstration of why it is inexhaust- 
ible! 

Celia — (Aghast,) You don't mean to say that this 
is your method of keeping it filled? 

Kate — Why not? The more material we save, the 
more money we make. Accordingly, I gather up the 
fragments. 

Celia — But the fragments may be full of germs. 

Kate — They probably are. The only germ in which 
we refuse to specialize is the germ out of Germany. 



When the Home Land Calls 5 

P^QQl) — And you can't even be sure of escaping 
that, these days. For all you know, Kate may be a death- 
distributing spy. 

Celia — Not with that watered lemonade, Peggy. 

P^Uiiy — (Beckoning.) Come hither I 

Celia — Not a step farther into this den of thieves. 

Peggy — (CoaxingUj.) Patronize home industry. 

Celia — (Advancing to her.) _ What, for example? 

Peggy — (Waving a sachet.) A sachet with an inde- 
scribable and evasive perfume. 

Celia — (Sniffing) It's evasive all right. 

Peggy — Have you no power of imagination? 

Celia — It isn't strong enough to detect the impos- 
sible. 

Peggy — I'll put it in your hand bag. (Opens bag.) 

Celia — I don't want it. 

Peggy — But the Red Cross wants your money. 
(Takes a bill front Celia's bag and drops it in her money 
box.) All change abandon ye who enter here ! 

Celia — But — 

Peggy — (Airily tossi7ig a boudoir cap on her head.) 
Isn't this the duckiest thing you've ever seen? 

Celia — (Resentfully.) I look like a fright in a bou- 
doir cap. 

Peggy — That's the very reason you should wear one. 
Even vanity should be disciplined during war times. 
(Throws knitting bag over her arm.) Here's a knit- 
ting bag. 

Celia — But I have three already. 

Peggy — Then this will make the perfect number. 
How fortunate that I can supply you ! 

Edith — (Crossing to them from L. 2E.) It isn't 
fair to spend all your money before you get to me. My 
candy is the real stuff — no camouflage. Here I'll donate 
a chocolate and you may judge for yourself. (Places a 
chocolate cream in Celia's mouth.) 

Kate — (Joining them.) Donate one in this direc- 
tion, Edith, and I'll sweeten the latest scandal for you. 
(As Edith places candy in her mouth. j There I I knew 
that would turn the trick. 



6 When the Home Land Calls 

Edith — And there really isn't any story? 

Kate — Of course there is. Haven't you heard that — • 
(lowers her voice and the four chat eagerly together.) 

Barbara — Twenty dollars! Pretty good for two 
hours' work, isn't it? 

Christine — Can't we raise it to twenty-five? 

Barbara — Impossible, I'm afraid. We'll get only a 
few stragglers now that it's time for the dancing. Ev- 
erybody is gravitating toward the ball room. 

Christine — Revealing the future has been fun. 

Barbara — (Laughing.) Especially when one hardly 
knows the life line from the heart line. Oh, that doesn't 
apply to you, only to stupid me. 

Christine — I've invented most of my charming con- 
fidences, also. 

Barbara — But you've done it eifectively. Being the 
strange and mysterious Miss Hunter has brought you 
clients. 

Christine — Mysterious! Absurd. I'm very com- 
monplace. 

Barbara — But not so commonplace as Barbara Ben- 
ton, who has lived here all her life. 

Christine — And by this time I'm no stranger. My 
six weeks in your pretty little city have made me almost 
a fellow citizen. 

Barbara — How did you happen to choose our quiet 
little college? 

Christine — On account of its quiet — and because it 
promised me high standards — scholastically and other- 
wise. 

Barbara — That's quite a tribute, isn't it? We're 
glad you made this particular choice. 

Christine — So am I. For you and your friends have 
included me so generously in your festivities. 

Barbara — In flippant phrase, my dear gipsy, the 
pleasure is all ours. Can you reach me my bag? It's 
hanging just inside the tent flap and I think it's better 
to deposit some of this wealth before we waylay further 
victims. (As Christine reaches for the bag, her sleeve 
falls back revealing a vivid jagged scar.) Oh, my dear, 



When the Home Land Calls 7 

how did you hurt your arm? (As she takes the bag from 
Christine she grasps her arm and looks at the scar close- 

lyj 

Christine — (Attempting to pull away her arm.) 
It's an old scar. 

Barbara — (Still retaining Christine's arm.) But an 
interesting one. Almost in the shape of an M. If this 
were palmistry, I'd say you were destined for money in 
abundance. 

Christine — (Laughing nervously.) But it isn't 
palmistry, unfortunately. (Loosing herself and pulling 
her sleeve over the arm.) Ugh! Let's hide the ugly 
thing — I'm sensitive about it. (Nods toward Celia, 7vho 
with Peggy and Edith are approaching.) Can't we per- 
suade Miss Wilson to try her luck? (Kate returns to 
punch bowl.) 

Barbara — (Risiyig and catching vp pillow upon 
which she has been seated.) Let us tell vour fortune, 
Celia. 

Celia — (Sinking on settee.) I have no fortune — only 
misfortune. 

Barbara — (flinging pillow in front of Celia and seat- 
ing herself.) Cross my palm with silver, pretty lady. 
(Edith and Peggy stand back of settee) 

Celia — I'll do nothing of the kind. In the first place, 
I've been robbed of all my silver; in the second place, you 
can't tell me anything that I don't already know. 

Christine — (Standing by tent) Five dollars would 
be such a help ! 

Celia — Five dollars! At the present moment, I could 
just as easily present you with five hundred. 

Barbara — But you're our last hope. 

Celia — Oh, no, I'm not. Herman von Eltz is in the 
other room and he has the purse of Fortunatus. 

Barbara — fSighiyig.) Heaven send him our way! 

Christiyie — Herman von Eltz. What a very German 
name! 

P^Ogy — Nevertheless, it belongs to a very American 
man. 

Christine — German born ? 



8 When the Home Land Calls 

Peggy — Yes, but partly educated here. 

Edith — While his younger brother is all American. 
Isn't he Barbara? 

Barbara — So much so that he is fairly entwined with 
the Stars and Stripes. 

Christine — But this love for the Fatherland — does 
it ever quite loosen its hold? 

Kate — Perhaps not — sentimentally considered. 

Christine — (Reflectively.) I wonder — 

Peggy — If you mean that the von Eltz brothers are 
pro-German — 

Christine — (Hastily.) I don't mean anything. I'm 
simply moralizing. 

Edith — Pro-German ! Why the two have been fairly 
reeking with patriotism ever since the war began. 

Kate — When does Karl arrive? 

Barbara — Tonight. 

Kate — How do you happen to know? 

Barbara — By means of that second sight which en- 
ables me to pierce the veil of the future. 

Peggy — That means you've had a letter from him. 

Barbara — (Mockingly.) "Oh, wise young judge!'* 

Edith — Where has he been all this time? 

Barbara — Washington — on business. 

Celia — (Scornfully) Business! Don't you get sick 
of that elastic excuse? It's the most aggravating word 
in the masculine vocabulary. 

Barbara — Aggravating, my dear, only because there 
is such a thing as feminine curiosity. 

Kate — Is he in the service? 

Barbara — If he isn't, he will be. 

Christine — This Karl seems to be an interesting per- 
son. 

Kate — (Mischievously.) Ask Barbara. 

Christine — (Suggestively.) Oh — I — see. 

Barbara — You girls make so much out of nothing. 
Why, I've known Karl all my life. 

Celia — And so well, that the veil of the future on 
which you seem to have so much of a monopoly is likely 
to prove a wedding veil. 



Whe7i the Home Land Calls 9 

Barbara — That's where you all guess wrong, and I 
can prove it. The immediate job which the future pre- 
sents me is that of a wireless operator. (Takes envelope 
from hag.) Here's my passport — and soon I'll be off to 
France. 

Celia — Barbara ! 

Kate — You're too young. 

P^flfjy — Why didn't you tell us? 

Edith — How I env\^ you ! 

Christine — When do you start? 

(Enter Herman with Gladys from R. Barbara hast- 
ily returns pass-port to bag.) 

Herman — (At right of C.) Is this the Tower of 
Babel — or merely a rosebud garden of girls? 

Gladys — (Who carries a large basket containing 
small nosegays.) Isn't his flowery language delightful? 
It comes on account of patronizing me. 

Herman — (Pointing to his bidton hole.) And look 
what I've drawn from the collection. Merely a bachelor's 
button. 

Gladys — Truth hurts sometimes doesn't it? Why 
don't you reform in such a way as to eliminate bachelors' 
buttons ? 

Herman — Who'll help me? 

Edith — What a perfectly reckless question to ask. 
Suppose we should all volunteer. 

Herman — That wouldn't do me a particle of good. I 
couldn't possibly make a choice. 

Gladys — In exchange for that pretty bouquet of 
yours, you shall have another of mine without extra 
charge. (As she pins flower upon him.i How will a 
bleeding heart offset that bachelor's button? (Turns to 
others.) As to the rest of you, no such generosity pre- 
vails. I'm here to sell — and sell I will. (As she calls each 
one by name site tosses a nosegay to her.) Here's a 
rose with a little thorn — just like you, Barbara; pansies 
for thoughts. Kate, you need 'em; sv/eet peas for you, 
Peggy — all on account of the first letter of \^our name; 
a beautiful, appropriate snap dragon for Celia; a bit of 



10 When the Home Land Calls 

sage for Edith — a tribute to your intelligence, my dear; 
(Pauses,) Now what shall I bestow upon you, Miss 
Hunter? How would this little tight-shut rosebud do? 
It refuses to open its leaves and reveal its heart. 

Christine — How very unflattering if you mean that 
I fail to respond to all your lovely courtesy and hospit- 
ality. 

Gladys — Not a bit of it. I'm merely saying in my 
poetical way that you're a stranger. 

Herman — (Glancing about.) What hasn't been sold? 

Edith — My biggest box of candy. (Holds it out.) 
Going — going — 

Herman — Gone! (Takes it and slips bill in her 
hand) 

Peggy — (Glancing at the bill which has changed 
hands.) Oh, you extravagant thing! Slip me one for 
these beauties. (Rushes to booth at L. U. E. and holds 
up a pair of bright knitted slippers.) 

Herman — (Following her.) The very thing for the 
trenches ! (Tucks them under his arm and hands her a 
bill.) And keep the change! 

Kate — (Seizing his arm.) The Spring of Eternal 
Youth is over here. (Pushes him toward punch bowl.) 

Herman — Not so fast, young lady, not so fast. You 
can drive me to that punch bowl but you can't make me 
drink. 

Kate — I don't want you to drink — merely to pay for 
it. (Music starts off stage.) 

Herman — (Sighing.) Here goes then. (Hands her 
bill) 

Gladys — Listen! The dancing is about to begin. 
(Catches Kate's hand and turns to Herman.) You 
don't mind if we go? (As he shakes his head, they laugh- 
ingly hurry through archway.) 

Herman — (As Peggy, Edith and Celia move toward 
the archway.) Is everybody determined to desert? 

Edith — Why not? Business is over — here. 

Peggy — And partners are waiting — (Points.) — 
there. 

Celia — So — do you blame us? 



When the Home Land Calls 11 

(Exeunt Edith, Peggy and Celia at archivay.) 

Barbara — But business isn't entirely over — here. 
You haven't as yet extended to us the financial hand of 
friendship. (Rises and holds pillow.) 

Herman — (Crossing to C.) Meaning — 

Barbara — That we lack five dollars of bringing our 
fund to twenty-five — and for that muchly desired five 
we'll give you a huge slice of the future. (Tosses pilloiu 
to him.) 

Herman — (As he catches it.) A huge slice of the 
future! That's worth more than five dollars to the man of 
today. Which one of you is to do the fatal deed? 

Barbara — Oh, I'll pass it on to Miss Hunter. Every- 
body wants her. 

Christine — (Smiling.) That isn't so at all. (Seats 
herself by tent opening.) 

Barbara — Oh, but it is. She looks like the seventh 
daughter of a seventh daughter. 

Christine — The only one in captivity. (To HeV' 
man.) Won't you be seated? (Herman throws down 
pillow, sits opposite her and she gravely inspects his 
hand.) 

Herman — (Laying bill npoyi it.) Must the palm be 
crossed with silver only? 

Christine — This does just as well — and better. Even 
gipsy etiquette is subject to change. 

Barbara — (Peering over Herman's shoulder and ab- 
stracting the bill. That looks good to me — so I'll add it 
to the fund. (Slips it in bag.) Will you place this in- 
side the tent, Miss Hunter? (Hands bag to Christine, 
tvho thrusts it inside the tent.) 

Christine — (As she looks closely at his hand) A 
tortuous life line. 

Barbara — She's told that to everybody. Nobody 
knows what it means — and is ashamed to ask — so it 
makes a hit. 

Christine — A strong head line. 

Barbara — /'Peering over Herman's shoulder.) I 
can't see the faintest resemblance to one. 



12 When the Home Land Calls 

Herman — Look here ,you prattlesome gipsy, who is 
attending to this fortune? 

Barbara — (Hurrying to C) Not I, kind sir. I'm 
hunting my own — in the other room. 

Herman — You don't need to hunt it; you carry it 
with you, I'm thinking. 

Barbara — Prettily said. Give him his money's 
worth, Miss Hunter. (Waves her hand and disappears 
through the archway,) 

Christine — (with bent head,) This is the palm of a 
man who dares great things in order that a great cause 
may triumph. It reveals manifold plans which are far- 
reaching — 

Herman — (Softly) And which will succeed. 

Christine — (After a pause,) Which will succeed. 
(In a lower tone,) Are we quite alone? 

Herman — (After a hasty survey,) Quite. 

Christine — Please keep your eyes lowered and follow 
my words as if I were reading your palm. There is al- 
ways the possibility of a sudden entrance. 

Herman — (As she pauses.) Well? 

Christine — In the role of a conscientious and pains- 
taking collegian, I have at last discovered the vulnerable 
member of the faculty. Through a network of under- 
standing students, the seeds of unrest and dissatisfac- 
tion are being scattered. This is a part of the propa- 
ganda, I believe? 

Herman — Assuredly. Go on. 

Christine — A strike is imminent in the munition fac- 
tory. 

Herman — Have you been instrumental in bringing 
this about? 

Christine — Partly. It has not been difficult to fan 
the flame of discontent among the wives of the workers. 

Herman — You've been able to do this without bring- 
ing suspicion upon yourself? 

Christine — What reason have you to doubt my clev- 
erness? With a dual personality and a box of make-up 
I can work wonders. 



When the Home Land Calls 13 

Herman — But these are minor issues. What of the 
greater task? 

Christine — Fischer will undertake it. 
•Herman — Are you sure of him? 

Christine — Absolutely. He is entirely at our mercy. 

Herman — And his price? 

Christine — Is great. 

Herman — That need not be considered an obstacle. 

Christine — So I have surmised. 

Herman — And his venture? 

Christine — Is for tomorrow night. He can easily 
gain access to the factory — and after that it is simple. 
A light to the fuse — a quick get-away — and destruction 
follows. 

Herman — Is there to be a signal? 

Christine — From you. Three flashes from the 
bridge. 

Herman — (Excitedly.) From vie? Have you dared 
to reveal my identity — or to drop a hint as to my part in 
this matter ? 

Christine — (Ironically) Don't excite yourself. Your 
identity as you call it, has been kept quite in the back- 
ground. There isn't the slightest danger of the charit- 
able and patriotic Mr. von Eltz being suspected of pro- 
German sentiments and pro-German schemes. 

Herman — I don't like the sneer in your tone. 

Christine — Far be it from me to criticize the part 
you have chosen to play. But at least, I have enough 
conscience left to realize how despicable is my own role. 
I have neither German name nor tradition to excuse it. 
(After a moment.) What I meant to convey, Mr. von 
Eltz, is that you are responsible for the signal. 

Herman — Naturally. At the present moment I feel 
that I am also responsible for you. 

Christine — ( Quickly. )W\\^i do you mean? 

Herman — That you have been traced to this very 
town. 

Christine — Impossible. 

Herman — Unfortunately — quite possible. 

Christine — But I left no clue. 



IJi. When the Home Land Calls 

Herman — You must have left a clue — some slip in 
your schedule, some careless move — 

Christine — (Angrily,) Careless move! When I 
sacrificed — this — in your interests. (Holds up arm with 
scar) Even money can not pay for some things. 

Herman — All of this is not to the point. What you 
must consider is immediate escape. 

Christine — Immediate escape. Where? 

Herman — Your cleverness will decide. (Anxiously) 
If there had only been time for a pass-port! A ship 
leaves tomorrow morning — and you could have crossed 
in safety. 

Christine — (Suddenly) A pass^port. 

Herman — Of course it is out of the question. 

Christine — But it isn't out of the question. (Rises) 
I am Miss Benton's height, coloring, style — am I not? 
(Seizes hag.) Well here is a pass-port — for her — why 
not for me? (Takes envelope from bag and thrusts it 
in her gown.) 

Herman — (Rising.) Would you dare? 

Christine — (Laughing.) .Dare? What would my 
vocabulary be without this word? 

(Enter Karl at archway.) 

Karl — Herman — old fellow ! 

Herman — (meeting him at C.) Why, boy, I didn't 
expect you until later. 

Karl — Made an earlier train — and followed you here. 
Barbara told me where to find you. (With a glance at 
Christine.) I hope I am not intruding. 

Herman — You are merely interrupting the recital 
of a very brilliant future which Miss Hunter finds in my 
hand. (Turns.) Miss Hunter, my brother, Karl. 

Karl — (As he takes her hand. )Wi\\ my interruption 
in any way hinder the realization of the fortune? 

Christine — (Laughing.) I think not. You see, it's 
been well paid for. (Starts toward archway,) 

Karl — Please don't hurry away. 

Christine — But I must be true to my role. You see, 
I deal with the past — and future — not the present. And 
what you and your brother have to say to each other after 



When the Home Land Calls 15 

your separation must obviously be an affair of the pres- 
ent. Acordingly — I would be de trap. 
: — Herman — But we'll see you later? 

Christine — (Turning at archway and speaking to 
Herman suggestively.) You'll see me — later. (Exit.) 

Herman — (Seating himself on settee.) Now tell 
me about this sudden and mysterious trip of yours. 

Karl — (Sitting at Herman's right.) Mysterious? 
How absurd! It was a business trij^ — pure and simple. 

Herman — Surely you have entered into no business 
proposition without my consent and approbation. 

Karl — (Laughing.) You forget that I have reached 
an age which warrants my deciding for myself. (As 
Herman winces.) Oh ,1 didn't mean it that way, old 
fellow — I really didn't. 

Herman — Are you in any trouble? 

Karl — So that's what is bothering you. Not a bit 
of it. I said goodbye to scrapes when I left college. 

Herman — (Impatiently.) Then tell me — why have 
you been to Washington? 

Karl — (Thoughtfully) Has it ever occurred to you 
that I have a future to consider? 

Herman — I have thought of little else. You must 
remember, Karl, that your welfare is my very life. 

Karl — Forgive me again for my awkward way of 
trying to explain. I can't think of a future without you, 
Herman, but if I am to be any sort of a citizen I must 
hew out my own path. 

Herman — Then you have reached a definite decision? 

Karl — I have. I am going in to the service. 

Herman — Whose service? 

Karl — How can you ask? My country's 

Herman — Under what flag? 

Karl — (Glancing at the Ainerican flag) Is there 
any other flag — for a good American? 

Herman — But you are not an American. 

Karl — I am of German name but of American spirit 
— and of distinctly American outlook. 

Herman — (Dryly > Rather an impossible statement, 
my dear brother, when you stop to realize that our father 



16 When the Home Land Calls 

has returned to Germany and is a loyal adherent of the 
German government; that our sisters have married Ger- 
man officers; that every drop of blood in us is German 
blood. You should feel the power of this blood drawing 
your sympathies and loyalty to Germany. 

Karl — But I don't. Notwithstanding the affection 
I have for those in Germany, there isn't an atom in me 
which isn't for America first, last and all the time. 

Herman— And you call this loyalty to your family 
and to your fatherland ! 

Karl— Fsiced by a world crisis, the lesser loyalty to- 
ward family or tribe should not interfere with the larger 
loyalty toward the country which has brought us pro- 
tection, happiness and success. 

Herman — (Rising) You talk madly. (Walks to L. 

of stage.) 

Karl — And there are times when one must renounce 
blood relations in order to be true to the principles of 
justice and liberty on which America is founded. 

Herman— (Turning) Rather than hear you voice 
such sentiments, I would wish you in your grave. 

Karl— (Rising) Rather than to realize what is 
gradually being forced upon me— that you are a traitor 
to the land of your adoption— I would wish that no tie 
of brotherhood existed between us. (Stands R. of C.) 

Herman— (Stepping forward) What right have you 
to speak like this ? 

Karl — The right given to every American citizen to- 
protest against treachery and subterfuge. 

Herman — Exactly what do you mean? 

Karl — That your words have betrayed you. (Leans 
forward) Herman, are you working against America— 
for Germany? 

Herman — That is not the question under discussion* 
Rather, what are you going to do ? 

Karl — (Resting on arm of settee) As I said before 
— I am going into the service. 

Herman — (In a conciliating tone) Why not show 
the proper deference to family tradition by being- 
neutral ? 



When the Home Land Calls 17 

Karl — It isn't a time for neutrality, Either we 
must become mere expatriates, or we must stand firm, 
strong and unyielding for American government and 
American democracy. 

Herman — But surely the American government ex- 
pects no more than a passive loyalty from a citizen of 
alien birth. 

Karl — There is no such thing as passive loyalty. If 
the German-American can not fearlessly choose to stand 
for America in return for the privilege of full American 
citizenship, he had better return to that land to which 
he is bound by ties of sentiment and clannishness. (Seats 
himself by Herman. 1 

Herman — You dispose of a big question in a few 
sweeping terms. 

Karl — It is a big question — this Americanizing of 
alien elements, this transforming of Russian, Pole, Ir- 
ishman, Jew and Italian Into beings infused with the 
American spirit — the spirit of freedom and individualism. 

Herman — It is a question not likely to be solved. 

Karl — Again I differ. For the country which gen- 
erously and hospitably opens its doors to all nations 
without thought of self interest, which has been the 
melting pot for diverse elements will realize her dreams 
of a great and universal Americanism just as surely as 
she will play a noble and a triumphant part in making 
the world safe for democracy. 

Herman — You are the victim of anti-German prop- 
aganda. 

Karl — (Rising and speaking excitedly.) What of 
the pro-German propaganda which insidiously eats its 
way into the heart of our country, which aims to check 
this assimilation of aliens into American citizenship, 
which strikes at the heart of American institutions and 
American democracy? (Coynes down stage.) 

Herman — (After a pause) Can't you realize, Karl, 
how all of this — hurts — me? 

Karl — (turning) Forgive me, old fellow. (Comes 
to him.) I can realize and I'm sorry — I honestly am. 
We're the onlv members of the family here fn this coun- 



18 When the Home Land Calls 

try; I want to stand with you — and yet — (impulsively) 
Oh, Herman, you know I'd do anything for you! 

Herman — (Rising) Then keep out of the army. 

Karl — I can't — I wouldn't. And if I wished to do so 
— what of the draft? 

Herman — (Eagerly) I could arrange it. I have 
influence — 

Karl — (Quietly.) Let's not talk about it. 

Herman — Then if you must fight — fight with the 
fatherland. 

Karl — (After a pause) Can you say that to me, Her- 
man, after what you've heard? 

Herman — I say it — because you don't understand, 
because you're young, because there must be some way to 
hold your allegiance. Will you promise me one thing? 

Karl — If it is within my power. 

Herman — See father before you make your final de- 
cision. It is his right. I can get you safely across — 
safely to the lines — and then it will be easy to reach him. 

Karl — But my mind is made up. 

Herman — Don't say that until you do what I wish — 
what you owe to father. 

Karl — (After a moment* s thought.) I'll promise. 

Herman — And not a word to anyone. 

(As they grasp hands, Barbara enters at archway.) 

Barbara — Dear me! Have you been holding hands 
all this time? I never before heard of such brotherly 
devotion. 

Herman — (Laughingly) Holding hands has been 
something of a specialty with you all the afternoon. 

Barbara — But it's my profession — that makes all the 
difference in the world. 

Herman — (Nodding toward tent) Did you come 
back to open shop? 

Barbara — No — only to tell Karl's fortune. He's pin- 
ing for it and it would be downright cruel to let him take 
another careless step without warning him of the pitfalls 
along his path. 

Karl — ^You sound like the real thing. 



Whc7i the Home Land Calls 19 

Barbara — I am. Amid a cloud of camouflage I 
shine forth a serene and steady light. 

Herman — Where's your companion in prevarication? 

Barbara — Gone home with a headache — so there's 
no escape for Karl. 

Her mail — I imagine he isn't seeking any escape. 

Barbara — Why seek the impossible? 

Herman — Well, I won't delay matters. Don't make 
his fortune too alluring or he'll prove obstreperous. 

(Exit at RJ 

Barbara — (Seating herself at tent door) Come, 
kind gentleman — the fates are waiting. 

Karl — (Sitting by her) Do you think I intend to 
let you waste time on this nonsense when I haven't 
seen you for six weeks? (Seizes both her hands.) 

Barbara — How can I shape your future when you do 
the hand holding? 

Karl — Do you want me to tell you just how you can 
shape it? 

Barbara — (Drawing away her hands) No, I don't 
Tell me about the trip instead. 

Karl — There's nothing to tell. 

Barbara — (Mockingly) Six weeks away — and noth- 
ing to tell ! 

Karl — Nothing that would interest you. 

Barbara — Wasn't it a success? 

Karl — It was. 

Barbara — And did you accomplish what you wished 
to accomplish. 

Karl— I did. 

Barbara — Oh, what snippy answers! You deserve to 
be quizzed. 

Karl — Quiz away. 

Barbara — Well, what was the business? 

Kai'l — How do you know there was any business? 

Barbara — Business trips usually have to do with 
business, don't they? Or have I been misinformed? 

Karl — Come now — talk about vourself. Whv in 



20 When the Home Land Calls 

thunderation should I want to discuss my trip when I can 

discuss you? 

Barbara — But can you? 

Karl — I can and I will. 

Barbara — Then I claim the right to hurl a few more 
questions at you. Why aren't you in khaki? 

Karl — Give me time. 

Barbara — To answer the question or to don the uni- 
form? 

Karl— Both. 

Barbara — Or perhaps khaki isn't becoming to your 
German name. 

Karl — What's in a German name if the man behind 
it is a good American? 

Barbara — I was just joking, you silly. Of course 
you're a good American and of course you'll do your bit. 

Karl — Let's hope that Fate will put a fairly good bit 
in my way. 

Barbara — Life's changed for all of us — hasn't it? 
I might characterize my own case as The Awakening of 
Barbara Benton. 

Karl — How would this do for me — The American- 
izing of Karl von Eltz? 

Barbara — How can anyone who is already American 
be Americanized? 

Karl — Do you feel that way about it? 

Barbara — How queerly you talk! Why shouldn't I 
feel that way about it? 

Karl — (Earnestly) Barbara, I want you to believe 
that when the home land calls, I'm listening and answer- 
ing. 

Barbara — (Dreamily) When the home land calls— 
Karl — (Softly) And before I go — I want you to 

promise — 

Barbara — (Checking him) Wait, Karl. Don't ask 

me to promise anything until — after the war. 

Karl — But you remember what you told me that 
night? 

Barbara — I remember; but oh, so much has hap- 



When the Home Land Calls 21 

pened since then — and it was the time when I was living 
in the Land of Romance. 

Karl — Isn't it still the Land of Romance? 

Barbara — {Whimsically j Let's call it No Man's 
Land until — after the war. Do you understand? 

Karl — (After a pause) I understand. 

Barbara — For I, too, am listening when the home 
land calls — and I'm going to France! 

Karl — Barbara ! 

Barbara — To France! IMy dream of being a wireless 
operator has been realized — and — (reaching for the bag) 
already I have my passport — here. 

(She fumbles in the bag, removing the various ar- 
ticles. As she searches, her expression becomes puzzled, 
then frightened, and in great consternation she rises 
and turns to Karl.) 

Barbara — It's gone Karl, gone! My passport! What 
does it mean — what can it mean? (Karl rises i7i be- 
wilderment.) 

CURTAIN 
ACT II. 



Scene — A room in a deserted house "somewhere in 
France" used as headquarters. Practical doors down R. 
and L. French window L. of C. in F. Cot R. of C. in F. 
Table at C. with telephone, lamp, matches and papers. 
Chair on either side of table. Stage is only partly illum- 
inated since it is late afternoon. 

At rise. Captain Ward is seated at L. of table cfnd 
Lieutenant Roberts is stayiding R. of table. 

Captain — I don't understand the situation. 

Lieutenant — Nor do I. And yet — (hesiitates) 

Captain — flnwatienthi ) Yps? 

Lieutenant — There seems but one inference when 
the purport of two wireless messages is deliberately 
changed. 



22 When the Home Land Calls 

Captain — Carelessness on the part of the one who 
receives the communication? 

Lieutenant — Hardly. He is one of the best and most 
reliable operators in the service. 

Captain — Then — something is wrong at this end of 
the line. (Leans forward) You say that the message 
is verbatim save for the omission or change of one or 
two words? 

Lieutenant — Exactly. 

Captain — For example? 

Lieutenant — The message, "Do not send scouting 
party tonight," was received "Send scouting party to- 
night." As a result our detachment was almost annihi- 
lated. 

Captain — Go on. 

Lieutenant — The same with the ammunition car. A 
negative command became an affirmative — and we lost 
our ammunition. 

Captain — I could never question Miss Benton's 
lionor. 

Lieutenant — Nor I. (Abruptly) When does she re- 
turn? 

Captain — Tomorrow. The girl has certainly needed 
her week's rest. 

Lieutenant — Who has been her substitute? 

Captain — Miss Hall. She has been most efficient 
and came with the highest recommendations. (After a 
pause) I am positive that the inaccuracy does not or- 
iginate with our station. 

Lieutenant — It is the popular supposition that some- 
thing of critical importance is brewing within the ene- 
my's lines. 

Captain — (Rising and pacing back and forth) Which 
brings to mind for the thousandth time that our messen- 
ger has not reported. 

Lieutenant — You mean — 

Captain — (Excitedly) Don't say his name — here. 
For I'm beginning to believe that the very walls have 
ears. He was due some days ago ; the delay can mean but 
one thing — 



When the Home Land Calls 23 

Lieutenant — His failure? 

Captain — His capture. His life wouldn't be worth 
a copper cent if the enemy should discover. 

Lieutenafit — Dare-devil fellow ! 

Captain — The most splendid courage I've ever seen. 
The boy doesn't hesitate at any obstacle; and what he has 
brought to our lines has been of inestimal)le value. 

Lieutenant — I'm sorry. 

Captain — But there may be a chance after all. What 
would this sort of life mean — without hope? (Knock 
sounds at R.i 

Lieutenant — (hi a whisper) Perhaps it is a direct 
answer to — prayer, shall I say? 

Captain — Hardly that. He doesn't usually herald 
his approach. 

Lieutenant — Shall I investigate? (Captain nods and 
Lieutenant opens the door. Barbara crosses the thresh- 
old.) 

Captain — (In surprise) Miss Benton! 

Barbara — I'm a bit ahead of time. Do I need to 
apologize? 

Captain — Hardly that. But you should have rested 
until the very last minute of your furlough. 

Barbara — I couldn't. I just had to come — tonight. 

Captain — And why? 

Bai'bara — You'll think me silly, of course; but I 
had a presentiment that I would be needed. 

Captain — Presentiments are often trustworthy — es- 
pecially in times of military stress. 

Lieutenant — Shall I be needed further, Captain 
Ward? 

Captain — Not until later when you will report upon 
the matters under discussion. 

Lieutenant — V'ery well. (Salutes Captain and bows 
formally to Barbara. Goes out at R.) 

Captain — (Drawing out chair R. of table for Bar- 
bara) Now, suppose you explain the presentiment. 
(Seats himself L. of table.) 

Barbara — One cannot explain a presentiment. I 



-^i When the Home Land Calls 

simply could not shake off the feeling that I could be of 
use. 

Captain — ^Your being of use, Miss Benton, has been 
undoubtedly proved. Indeed, your work has been of the 
very highest quality. 

Barbara — It pleases me to hear you say that. I had 
a wonderful instructor and I want to be a credit to him. 

Captain — Where did you study? 

Barbara — In New York. 

Captain — And your home? 

Barbara — Is near by, Lester. 

Captain — (Thoughtfully) Lester. I seem to have 
lieard of it. 

Barbara — We have had three claims to notoriety — a 
college, a munition factory and a spy. 

Captain — The last mentioned is hardly a distinc- 
tion nowadays. The breed infests every spot on the 
map. 

Barbara — This particular spy roused my personal 
animosity — that is why she lingers especially in my mem- 
ory. 

Captain — How did she come into contact with you? 

Barbara — Abstracted my passport, made her escape 
by means of it and caused me a great deal of inconven- 
ience. That's all. 

Captain — Have you ever traced her? 

Barbara — Never. She is too clever to be traced. I 
only infer that she is — over here. 

Captain — Now I know why I remember Lester. Once 
upon a time I had business transactions with a certain 
Herman von Eltz. 

Barbara — ^The name von Eltz is not popular in Les- 
ter at present. 

Captain — Too German? 

Barbara — Too traitorous. Herman von Eltz, after 
being suspected of directing an explosion at the muni- 
tion factory, left suddenly for regions unknown. (With 
ill-concealed bitterness) Karl von Eltz — ^the younger 
brother — is fighting on the German side. 

Captain — Karl von Eltz? Are you sure of this? 



Whcji the Home Laud Calls 25 

Barbara — Sure? Why shouldn't I be sure? His ac- 
tion is all the more contemptible because he posed as a 
loyal American. 

Captaiii — The ties and traditions of the home land 
proved too strong, I suppose. 

Barbara — It depends upon what one calls the home 
land. In my opinion, the home land is the country which 
protects, educates and gives the best of its spirit and its 
life to the one within its gates — not the far-off region 
which is merely a mass of tradition, sentimentality and 
false ideas of loyalty. 

Captain — America is, after all, a vast crucible into 
which have been cast the elements of many alien races. If 
she can fuse these elements into the white heat of Amer- 
ican patriotism and American nationalism, she will cre- 
ate a mighty force which can not be overcome. 

Barbara — She will do it, Captain Ward, she will do 
it; and it would be a wonderful inspiration, a wonderful 
triumph, in these days of stress and turmoil, if a young 
German, bound by every tie to the fatherland, should 
shake off the fetters which restrict soul and mind and 
spirit, and should stand out in fervor of transformation 
— a true American! 

Captain — (After a pause.) It may be given you to 
see this very thing, Miss Benton. 

Barbara — (Laughing) In my ecstatic vision of the 
future, I have rather overstepped my limits and have di- 
gressed from my prime object in coming here. As a mat- 
ter of fact. Captain Ward, has everything gone smoothly 
and do you need me tonight? 

Captain — Everything — apparently — has gone 
smoothly. 

Barbara — What do you mean? 

Captain — That no thought of inefficiency entered 
our minds until something of serious moment was 
brought to our attention. 

Barbara — Is it out of my province to ask what it is? 

Captain — I have intended to tell you. Two messages, 
supposedly sent from our station, have been transmitted 



26 When the Home Land Calls 

in such a way that the original command has been 
changed and perverted with disastrous results. 

Barbara — Could the fault lie with the receiving 
station ? 

Captain — Hardly. 

Barbara — Then — may I ask about Miss Hall? 

Captain — I know little, save that she came with prop- 
er credentials and that she has been quiet, efficient and 
satisfactory. 

Barbara — It might have been carelessness. 

Captain — But we don't deal with might be's. The 
facts are right with us and we must discover the whys 
and wherefores of these distorted communications im- 
mediately. We have already paid too high a price. 

Barbara — (After a pause) Is it too presumptions 
in me to make a suggestion ? 

Captain — I should not have told you the circum- 
stances had I not expected you to express yourself. 

Barbara — Then may I see Miss Hall — for a moment? 
I know it is unkind to suspect a person who may be inno- 
cent, but on the other hand, there is no harm in submit- 
ting a test. 

Captain — And what test have you in mind? 

Barbara — A simple one. Call her in on some pretext 
— either to meet me or to tell her of my return tomor- 
row; let her know that you have business elsewhere and 
that I, too, am going ; then let fall carelessly some remark 
in regard to important military movements pending ; and 
if she is involved in this trouble she will soon transmit 
such information. 

Captain — But, even in that case — 
Barbara — Wait. I shall return — she won't suspect 
— and I promise to watch her, follow her and do my best 
to solve the mystery. (Pauses, The captain makes no 
reply) You don't quite countenance it, do you? 

Captain — I don't quite see — but have it your own 
way. It can do no harm and Lieutenant Roberts is on 
the trail anyway. (Suddenly) Only this — don't risk 
anything that savors of danger. 

Barbara — (Excitedly) I won't — I promise. 



Whc7i the Home Land Calls 27 

Captain — And I, myself, will return shortly. 
Barbara — Now — call her, please. 
(Captain Ward rises and opens door at L.) 
Captain — (Calling upstairs) Miss Hall? 
Miss Hall — (Off stage) Yes, Captain Ward. 
Captain — Here — just a moment, please. (Returns 
and stands L. of table.) 

(Enter Miss Hall at L.) 

Captain — (Turning) Miss Hall, I want you to 
meet Miss Benton whose place you have so admirably 
filled; also to know that Miss Benton will resume her 
duties tomorrow. 

Barbara — (Rising as Miss Hall comes to C.) I 
feel that I owe all my good rest to your capability. Miss 
Hall. I have heard nothing but praise of your efficiency. 
(Takes her hand.) 

Miss Hall — It has not been easy to fill your place. 
Miss Benton. You leave your successor too high a stan- 
dard to reach. 

Barbara — (Laughing) Aren't we nice to each 
other with all our pretty speeches? I wish I might talk- 
to you a little longer even at the risk of trespassing on 
your office hours — but I must be off. 

Captain — And I. If you will permit me, Miss Ilen- 
ton, I will escort you as far as the cross road<. (B-irhara 
nods assent I And I'll be summoning you soon. Miss 
Hall — for important communications (Nodanig toward 
table) — will mean conferences over the wire. 

Miss Hall — (Quietly) Yes, Captain Ward. (Moves 
toward L.) 

Captain — Are you ready, Miss Benton? '^ys'^es 
and opens door at R.) 

Barbara — Quite ready. _ (Crosses to door and nods 
to Miss Hall ) Goodbye. 

Miss Hall — Goodbye. (Exit at L. as Captain and 
Barbara go out at R.) 



28 When the Home Land Calls 

(As the act progresses, the stage becomes gradually 
darker until at this point there is almost complete dark' 
ness. -Stage is clear for a few moments then a slight 
noise is heard. The French window is opened and by the 
aid of a flashlight Barbara is revealed. She makes her 
ivay to the cot and seats herself. In few moments the 
door at L. opens. Miss Hall, also with a flashlight ap- 
pears and goes directly to table. Using the flash light, 
she searches hastily and nervously through the papers; 
then ivith an ejaculation of impatience, she lights the 
lamp. Again the search, and for greater ease she hast- 
ily turns back the cuffs of her sleeves. In the light of 
the lamp, a vivid, jagged scar on her arm is revealed. 
Suddenly she stops shortly and stands listening.) 

Miss Hall — Who's there? 

Barbara — (Advancing into the lamp light) Only I. 
I left my handkerchief and came back for it, (turning 
and pointing) through the window. I hope I didn't 
startle you. 

Miss Hall — Not at all. I, too, was looking for some 
property, a memorandum — but I evidently did not leave ^ 
it here. 

Barbara — (Who has been gazing in fascination at 
the scar) What a strange scar ! I have seen only one 
like it. 

Miss Hall — (Carelessly) I flattered myself I had 
the only one in existence. Shall I leave the light — or 
have you found what you were looking for? 

Barbara — (Quietly) I have found what I was 
looking for. 

Miss Hall — Well — good night again. (Exit at L.) 

(Barbara follows her to the door, listens, then 
thoughtfully crosses back to table and lowers light As 
she does so, there is a sound at the window. She 
shrinks back, the window slowly swings open, and Karl 
von Eltz in a German uniform, arm in a sling, staggers 
into the room.) 

Karl — (Making his way with difficulty to the cot 



When the Home Land Calls 29 

and sulking upon it.) I'm safe — safe — (SigJiS and falls 
back in exhaustion.) 

(Barbara turns up the light, he opens Iiis eyes, sees 
her standing there, and, murmuring her name, attempts 
to rise.) 

Barbara — (In an agony of fright) Karl! ^KarU 
Do you know where you are? 

Karl — Out of my mind, I think. Is it really you, 
Barbara, or just one of those fancies which have been 
tormenting my mind for so long? 

Barbara — You don't realize what has happened. 

Karl — But I realize that it is you and that's enough 
reward for all that I've suffered — all I've gone through. 

Barbara — (Kneeling by himj Karl! Listen. You 
don't understand and you've made a terrible mistake. 
You're inside the American lines. 

Karl — That's where I want to be. 

Barbara — In that uniform? 

Karl — In this uniform. 

Barbara — Oh, why did you come here — why — 
(Rises) Come. I'll help you to get away — I'll find you 
some other clothes — I'll — 

Karl — Don't worry, Barbara. I'll be drawing a 
khaki uniform of my own before long. 

Barbara — What do you mean? 

Karl — Just this; I've deserted. 

Barbara — Deserted! 

Karl — For good. From this time forward, I fight 
openly under the Stars and Stripes. 

Barbara — You don't know what you're saying. 
(Moves to L.I 

Karl — Oh, yes I do. I'm speaking the truth and be- 
ing myself for the first time in months. 

Barbara — You can't be yourself — you — 

Karl — I'm through with the Germans — through, I 
say. I've seen enough of their brutality, their efficiency, 
their kultur. I've been one of their infernal machines too 
long — and I'm through with it all. 

Barbara — A deserter! Oh, the shame of it! 



30 When the Home Land Calls 

Karl — (Weakly) Vm. faint! Water — water — 

(Barbara hastens to door at L., goes out and returns 
with glass of water which she holds to his lips.) 

Karl — Ten days in swamps and forests — with raw 
vegetables and bitter roots — and — But that's all over 
now and I'm here — safe. 

Barbara — Listen, Karl, and try to understand. 
You're not safe — you're in the utmost danger — and if 
any American officer were to enter now — it would be 
ruin to you. Let me help you escape. There must be 
some chance — and then you can find your way back to 
your own lines. 

Karl — I can't. I'm wounded — ^here. (Touches 
nnkle.) 

Barbara — Oh, what can I do! Captain Ward may 
t)e here at any moment. (Crosses to table and places 
^lass upon it.) 

Karl — Captain Ward ! Better still. Just let me rest 
' — quietly — and I'll be all right. I've come back — ^to 
America. 

Barbara — (Angrily) But why should America 
-want you? Why should she trust her safety to you? A 
man who is a traitor to one country is easily traitor to 
another. 

Karl — But if I say that America has been my first, 
last and only thought? 

Barbara — I do not believe you — I can't. Once upon 
a time you told me with a fervor which I couid not doubt 
that you would answer the call of the home land. (Iron- 
ically) Perhaps you did — and I was merely mistaken in 
the home land. 

Karl — Listen. 

Barbara — I listened — then — and believx3d. And in 
less than a week you sailed away without a word or sign, 
io take your place under the standard of my country'^ 
■enemy. 

Karl — Won't you have faith, Barbara? 

Barbara — Where there is no respect, there can be no 
faith. 



WJicn the Home Land Calls 31 

Karl — Then won't you let me say that the story is 
not ended? There is something yet — to follow? 

Barbara — A late allegiance to America will not wipe 
out the disgrace of your desertion in the time of need. 

Karl — f Faintly) Sometime you'll uiulerstand. 

(Mi^^ Hall enters at L. i/nseen by them and starids 
in'th her back af/ain-'<t the door.) 

Barbara — PerJiaps. We shall not speak of it again. 
Once more. I beg of you to go — anywhere — only away 
from here. There must be some way — and I'll help vou — 
I'll— 

Miss Hall— (Mockingly) Oh, you will? Will you? 
(Barbara wheels around) Is this — (Noddiyig toward 
Karl) what you came back to find, Miss Benton*.' 

Barbara — (Coolly) And if it — is? 

Miss Hall — It will be unfortunate to lose it — so soon. 
You see, officers' headquarters prove a poor rendezvous 
for lovevs. 

Barbara — Aren't you assuming a good deal? 

Miss Hall — I think not. Hiding a German soldier 
within American lines is proof positive I fear that your 
allegiance is divided. However, I admire your daring. 

Barbara — And I admire your disguise. 

Miss Hall—l fear I do not understand. 

Barbara — I am sure you do. A well-fitting wig and 
a clever make-up (juite change you. If it were not for 
the scar — iPai'ses significantly) 

Miss Hall—WelU 

Barbara — I might never have suspected thpt you 
were Christine Hunter. 

Miss Hall — Suspicion is not proof. 

Barbara — But not often does nature give two ident- 
ical scars. 

Miss Hall — Well, what are you going to do about it? 

Barbara — First, satisfy the demand of a personal 
resentment on account of a stolen passport. The town is 
still talking. Miss Hunter, about your treachery. 

Miss Hall — (Shrugging her shoulders) It is well to 
be remembered bv one's loving friends. 



32 When the Home Land Calls 

Barbara — Next, advise the proper authorities in re- 
gard to the spy in their midst. I fancy it will not be dif- 
ficult to account for the altered messages which have re- 
sulted so disastrously for our side. 

Miss Hall — If you have quite finished, Miss Benton, I 
have a word to say, and a duty to perform. The tele- 
phone will prove the most convenient in informing the 
authorities — as you call them — that their trusted wire- 
less operator is not only hiding a German soldier, but 
planning his escape. The soldier, I might suggest, is 
doubtless a spy. 

Barbara — That you should talk of spying ! 

Miss Hall — I am protecting my own interests — as 
always. 

Karl — Then let me protect Miss Benton's. She had no 
idea of my presence here until she encountered me — un- 
expectedly. I came from the German lines — of my own 
accord. 

Miss Hall — How will such a statement protect Miss 
Benton's interest if I may ask? I can testify that I 
heard her offer to help you escape. (Rushes to telephone 
and takes it.) The matter is not worth the discussion. 

Barbara — Stop! You shall not do it. 

Miss Hall — I can also bear witness that Miss Ben- 
ton's feeling for — the German — is more than friendly. 

Karl — Be careful. 

Miss Hall — (Mockingly) And accordingly her judg- 
ment is not to be trusted. 

Barbara — Karl, I can't see you captured. They 
would show no mercy — they — 

Miss Hall — Then strike a compromise. Say nothing 
of my identity, give me an opportunity to escape, and I 
shall not only hold my peace but shall aid you in effect- 
ing his departure. Is it a bargain? 

Barbara — Never. My country comes first and I shall 
do nothing to jeopardize her interests. (Turns to Karl) 
I'm sorry, Karl, but you understand. 

Karl — I understand; and, at present, my greatest 
desire is to have Miss Hunter send that telephone mes- 
sage. 



When the Home iMiid CaU.-i 33 

Miss Hall — (Mockingly) Then your desire shall be 
gratified. 

(As she is about to telephone, the door at R. sudden- 
ly opens and Captain Ward appears. Barbara involun- 
tarily staiids in front of Karl as the Captain looks in- 
quiringly around.) 

Barbara — Your wireless operator, Captain Ward, 
proves to be the same spy who surreptitiously removed 
my passport some months ago. I think that, upon inves- 
tigation, you will find her responsible for the false mes- 
sages which have been sent from our station. 

Captain — I, too, have been learning of ]\Iiss Hall — 

Barbara — (Interrupting i ]\Iiss Hunter — 

Captain — And several other names. I acknowledge 
her cleverness and her worth to Wilhelmstrasse, but I 
fear her career of usefulness has been permanently 
checked. 

Miss Hall — Then she will play her last card before 
leaving. Your choice of wireless operators, Captain 
Ward, seems unfortunate. The other one ^Sodding to- 
ward Barbara I is at present shielding a German sol- 
dier — probably spy — and offering him safe convoy. 

Karl — (Pushing Barbara aside, half rising, and sa- 
luting) Captain Ward! 

Captain — (With an expression of delight as he rec- 
ognizes Karl) You lose again, ^Miss Hall. For your en- 
lightenment I'll say that the supposed German spy is one 
of our most valued secret service men. For months, in 
the garb of the enemy, he has risked his life for our 
cause and has brought us information and military 
knowledge that has helped us to push our way success- 
fully. (Barbara crosses to L.) 

(For a moment, Miss Hall stands speechless from 
amazement, then with a gesture of despair she starts to- 
ward door at L.) 

Captain — May I open the door for you. Miss Hall? 
Y'"ou will find military escort — outside, i Opeyis door at 



S4- When the Home Land Calls 

R. For a moment Miss Hall hesitates, then passes out at 
R.) 

Karl — (As Captain hurries to him) Thought I'd lost 
out, did you, Captain? (Takes paper from coatj Well, 
here's your information just in time to spoil Fritz's pret- 
ty plan for tomorrow and I've plenty more (touches 
head) in here. I've had a hard time getting to you but 
I've arrived and if you want to do me a good turn let me 
■pat on my own uniform — and keep it on. 

Captain — (putting his hand on KarVs shoulder) 
You've won it, von Eltz and a general's epaulets besides,. 
I'm thinking. Come right away to a conference and 
let every body duly thank you. (Takes paper.) 

Karl — (Touching his arm and ankle) Sorry — but — 

Captain — Heavens, boy, you're wounded — why didn't 
you say so before? 

Karl — Just a scratch. 

Captain — But we can't afford even a scratch at this 
stage of the game. I'll send a surgeon immediately. (Hur- 
ries to door at R. and turns) Now, Miss Benton, do you 
understand my covert allusions of this afternoon ? 

Barbara — (Demurely smiling) I think I do — and 
— Captain Ward? 

Captain — Yes ? 

Barbara — I have been given the vision of a true 
American. (Captain laughs and goes out at R.) 

Karl — Barbara, before that old saw-bones arrives — 
come here. 

Barbara — (Kneeling by cot) Oh, Karl, Karl, for- 
give me for all those cruel things I said. 

Karl — There's no time for talk like that. Now, do 
you understand my trip to Washington, and why I 
couldn't tell you? And why I left without a word? It 
was the best that I could offer my country and when the 
opportunity to serve in the German army came my way, I 
didn't hesitate. 

Barbara — Oh, Karl — 

Karl — Soon I'll be wearing the khaki and proving 
myself a true son of America. (Softly) Must I wait 
long for your promise, Barbara ? 



When the Home Ijtnd Calls 



S6 



Barbara — You have it — now. 

Karl — The war can't last always, dear; the smoke 
of hattlp must rlear away; the shot and shell miiRt be 
RJlen(e<l —forever. We'll brave the dansrer with all trunt 
in the future and we'll pro back tojjether — 

Barbara — (Softly > When the home land rallRl 

CURTAIN 




"^if' 



THE BIG SUCCESS OF LAST SEASON 

"Somewhere in France" 



By SEYMOUR S. TIBBALS 

/n STIRRING patriotic drama of the World 
\^ War in 3 acts. 4 male, 3 female char- 
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This play has been rewritten and elaborated 
to play a full evening. Last season it achieved 
an instantanteous hit with amateur players, 
being produced with great success. 

The action takes place in the home of Pierre 
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graphically shows why America went into the 
war. Two sons have been killed in battle and 
Jean, the youngest son, is blinded by a shell. 
Mary Dale, an American Red Cross nurse, is 
attached to a base hospital near the home of 
the Graudets and her personal care of Jean 
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the second act. The dialog is intensely patriotic 
and one critic has termed the play **a classic." 
A splendid play for a Red Cross benefit, or to 
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I PRICE 25 CENTS ||^ 

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FRANKLIN, OHIO also '""KSidL,s DENVER, COLO. 



THE NEW COSTUME BOOK 



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Mother Goose Characters 
Fairies, Witches, Goblins 
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Little Folks of Lonp: Ago 
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Characters of Comedy 
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Holiday Characters 
Different Nationalities 
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CLOTH, 75 CENTS 



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The Pagean t of the Hour 



Especially recommended for a Red Cross 
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The SPIRIT OF 



ii 



DEMOCRACY 



M 



AN ALLEGORICAL PAGEANT OF THE 
WORLD WAR, IN BLANK VERSE, 

^ By MERAB EBERLE ' 

® 

The action takes place at the throne of 
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